


Ruby

by Vathara



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Blood Drinking, Demons, Don't copy to another site, Dubcon Cuddling, Lejentia Fort Bevits, Magic, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 21:25:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vathara/pseuds/Vathara
Summary: The demoness Jenova takes her tithe of lives... usually. Zack arranges for an exception. AU, fusion with Lejentia Fort Bevits.





	Ruby

Azure sheets rustled as Cloud woke, silk wrapping body heat around him like lava. Amberwood smoke touched his nose, drifting from a copper brazier suspended in the bedroom's east corner. An eldritch green flame burned to the south, adding just the faintest light to the room, little more than the shrouded moon-silver glow-globe in the center of the ceiling. Water burbled over silver patterned with shakudo cattails and dragonflies in a western alcove, and north held a mica-glittering chunk of granite hewn straight from Mount Nibel.

_I'm supposed to be dead._

More warmth burned behind him, hotter than human. Cloud shivered as a breath feathered through short blond hair. Slipped his hands quietly outside the sheets, to get enough leverage on the mattress to scoot off the bed-

A sleepy grumble, and weight shifted. A clawed hand landed over his shoulder, muscular arm immobile as an iron bar. Or even less so; he'd seen demons tear steel apart bare-handed, after all.

_Damn._

Cloud risked a glance at the oddly human face behind him. Tan, a little darker than the people he was used to in Nibelheim. Mouth mostly closed, hiding the fangs. Almost kind.

And framed by wildly spiky black hair whose length told anyone with eyes this was a demon.

_Like the ones who came to Nibelheim, and-_

His mind shied from shadows of blood and fire; leather red as a dying sun, and wings like the storm that shrouded it. He'd only glimpsed the demon general Genesis from a distance, crimson blade sizzling black with burned blood, but it was enough. He could still feel the splinters that had bitten into his hands as he clung to the water tower beside his mother, shivering helplessly while Eileen Strife surveyed the battlefield from the one point still above the smoke, searching for lives she could save.

There hadn't been many.

… _I'm supposed to be dead, too._

His Mom had spent everything she had, trying to save the wounded. She'd had nothing left to resist the village elders, when they came and-

He couldn't remember.

He'd tried a dozen times, in the whirlwind of parl points and portals between Nibelheim and here. He'd try a hundred more, if that's what it took. Deep breath, find that calm center his Mom said existed in everyone, grit his teeth and _shove_ at that blankness.

A secretive voice, whispering with the accent of Wutai. A restless murmur. Elder Lockhart's bark of laughter-

Nothing more.

Not that Cloud really needed more, given what he'd overheard, what he'd had sneered in his face from the rest of the Nibelheim tithe from when he'd woken up to… here.

The rest of the tithe. His fellow slaves, the village would have said – only all of them had known it wasn't true. _They_ were going to be slaves, flesh and bone to repay Nibelheim's audacity in daring to resist a demon general. He'd been meant for something much, much worse.

_Jenova is always hungry…._

And he was trying very hard not to blame anybody for that. He was. Everybody liked Tifa. No one wanted to see her spread-eagled across a black marble altar, obsidian knife coming down to carve out her heart and soul for Jenova's feasting. It was supposed to be a random lottery anyway. That's what the Elders said. He didn't _know_ Tifa should have been here instead.

Only from the laughs he'd heard, the sidelong glances of the adults, the way they'd drugged and locked away his mother before _any_ names were drawn….

_They rigged it._

Cloud swallowed that awful rush of hate. Hate was supposed to be for the demons. For the armies of Shinra and Jenova. Not for your own people.

Only Nibelheim had thrown him away, and a demon had saved him. For now.

_Why?_

Cloud touched the unfamiliar weight of silver on his left ear; a wolf's head, carved in such detail he could feel the thick fur. He didn't remember exactly what the demons had said about it. At the time most of him had been trying not to whimper, convinced _pet_ was just a lie to calm down the human before a demon ate him. What wasn't lost in blind panic had been trying to take in every detail of corridors, windows, and open-air passageways the black-haired demon carried him through, looking for some chance to _get away_.

What he'd do after that, Cloud had no idea. And didn't much care. He was _not_ going to lie down and die. Period.

And it wasn't as if listening to the demons would have actually helped. He didn't speak Hellish.

But the way silver almost prickled under his fingers…. _Magic. I think. Some kind of tag?_

Would make sense, given the _pet_ remarks that had been flung around the few times any demon or thrall had spoken Common. So… if he _could_ get away, he had to plan for them to try tracking him.

_Earring's got to go, then._

For more reasons than one. It was _doing_ something to him, he knew it. The redheaded demon in the blue suit had held him still, while the black-haired demon jabbed the earring's silver point into the side of his own finger, tipping it with demon blood, before piercing it through Cloud's earlobe in one bright flash of pain-

And the moment the earring had sealed itself, something in Cloud had… gone limp. Unwilling to fight. As if lying skin-to-skin with a demon was where he was _supposed_ to be.

_First, I need a way out. Next, I need a knife._

Because he was _going_ to get out. Somehow. His mother had had just enough time to kiss him on the forehead and wish him _luck_ , and _live_ -

Cloud scrubbed at his face, determined not to cry. Right. Getting out. Only an idiot would think a kid could match a demon strength for strength. He might not be as strong as most kids his age, but he was not an idiot. Yet the black-haired demon wasn't holding him that tightly. If he was slow and careful, maybe….

Wriggle. Breathe. Wriggle a little farther, and wait with bated breath as his captor twitched, and settled back to sleep.

It took _forever_.

But at last there was just one more subtle slide, and he was out of the bed-

And froze, unable to take another step.

He didn't want to leave.

_Are you nuts?_ Cloud wanted to yell at himself. _That's a_ demon. _He wants to_ eat _you!_

But it felt safe back there. Warm. He'd be happy, as long as he was with his-

_Nobody owns me!_

Silver was hot in his ear, the spell igniting to fight his will. Cloud set his teeth and forced himself to ignore the pain. It didn't matter. It couldn't matter. He was not going to stop. He was going to _leave_. Walking if he could. Crawling if he had to. Just one - step - at a time….

Hand on the door panel. No knob. _Damn._

_Think_ , Cloud told himself through the gray haze around his will. _They've got… human slaves. Which means… there's got to be a way a human can open the door._

Part of the panel prickled under his fingertips. Probably magical; though in a place where demons actually lived, who knew if it was a spell or just accumulated aura traces. Cloud moved his hand away from that part, feeling at the decorative moldings of birds, beasts, and knotwork edging. Was it the spell-haze, or were some of the little knobs a little brighter than the rest, as if burnished by brushing fingers?

_Buttons. Try pushing-_

The door slid open.

Black leather. Silver hair. A scent of feathers, light and oddly comforting. More black leather; a coat, and straps crossing over a pale, muscular chest. Rivers more of silver hair, brushed back from moon-white arcs of horns, framing cat-slitted eyes that glowed demonic green.

_Oh god I'm gonna die._

"Very possible," the demon general growled. "What are you doing in my bedroom?"

Oh god that was right, his mother had said some demons could read thoughts, like the Ancients could, and this wasn't just any demon, this was- "Escaping?" Cloud blurted.

A snicker erupted from the bed behind him. "Tough kid, huh Seph? I can't believe he got all the way to the door."

Emerald narrowed. "Neither can I." Black-gloved fingers touched Cloud's forehead. _"Sleep."_

Darkness opened up and swallowed him, taking the pain with it.

* * *

 

Caching the human child before he could hit the floor, Sephiroth sighed. "What am I going to do with you, Zachary?"

No longer shamming sleep, Zack Fair padded over on bare feet. Claws in view, but no horns or wings; he'd shape-shifted to mostly human, then, likely to put the boy at ease. "I know you're upset," Zack said evenly. "And I'll take whatever you've got coming to me. But he was an hour away from going under the knife, Seph. Reno barely had time to get _me_ down there."

And that close to a sacrifice, there wasn't any other way out. Not for a human. But to take a pet, when mere weeks ago he'd still been human himself, if one laced with demonic blood… it went against everything he knew of Zack. "Why?"

Zack gave him a grin. "Sit down and watch."

Silver brow raised, Sephiroth joined his pack-second on their bed. If the child were an elaborate booby-trap, as he halfway suspected, they'd need Security to check the room anyway.

For minutes, nothing happened. Sephiroth frowned, ready to demand answers-

Ephemeral as dew, the translucent image of a wolf curled around the boy. The wild head lifted, sky-blue meeting cat-slit emerald-

Vanished.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed again; he could feel a headache coming on. "Humans don't have auras." Meaning the child must be an Ancient, there should have been enough wards on him to choke a dragon, and someone in temple procurement was about to find life miserable indeed.

"Don't go ripping off heads yet," Zack said wryly. "He's human. Reno took a blood drop to check when I tagged him."

Sephiroth touched carved silver lightly, satisfying himself its enchantments were still intact. Scent-dampening, so human fear and anger would not overwhelm a demonic nose with hunger and lust. Location spells, so Zack would always know where his new pet was. And most insidious of all, a spell to mimic the effects of pack-bonding, so the human would react as a thrall long before his owner's bite could Mark him. Sephiroth had known hardened Compact warriors who'd broken under his bite, unable to fight the pull of demonic instinct.

Yet this _child_ had fought it.

"So," Zack went on, "I figure I hang onto him a few days until the temple's not interested anymore, then we can slip him in with the rest of the conscripts his age. He's scrawny, but he's healthy. No magic, but with an aura like that, looks like he'll take to it just fine once we get a little blood in him. And he's sure as heck got the stubborn to do it." A violet eye winked at Sephiroth. "He didn't faint when he saw you. That's got to be a plus."

A desirable characteristic not always found in recruits, to be sure. Which made Sephiroth all the more suspicious. A child, young enough to set off Zack's over-active protective instincts, magically intriguing enough to alert a Turk, with enough strength of will to resist mind-altering spells….

_Perfect._

Meaning, of course, that was he _truly_ was, was a perfect trap. Someone in the Wutai Compact had finally overcome that culture's disgust of demons long enough to determine what would lure in a new, strong warrior like Zack, and they'd remade this child as the perfect bait.

_Likely programmed to assassinate as many of us as possible the moment a contact hands him powdered iron._ For all their mystical power, demons were weak against that mortal metal - and a thrall could all too easily get near a troop's daily stew. _I should_ incinerate _him for touching Zack-_

No. Stop. Think. Rule the rage; never let it rule him. Genesis might behave otherwise, but his fellow general did not have fragile humans under his command, working alongside demons and thralls. Sephiroth was more careful. He had to be.

_If the boy was to be sacrificed last night, then he was from Genesis' tithe. Meaning the Compact would have planned for his temper, not mine._

Which implied that a fireball, satisfying as it might be, could do far more damage than even a demon general might be prepared to handle.

"Ah, Seph?" Zack said warily. "Problem?"

_Ninjas plan for multiple outcomes. They couldn't be sure a young demon would spot this boy. Meaning his death alone might be just as deadly…._ "Guard me." Hand cupping the boy's cheek, Sephiroth walked into the human's mind.

_Mom?_ A quiet, worried whisper in the darkness of magical sleep. _Mom, I want to go home. The demons want to eat me-_

"No demon under my command consumes human flesh."

Even locked in sleep, Sephiroth felt the boy's attention fix on him. _Stubborn. Or shaped to be so._ "Now, let us see what manner of trap you are."

Armed and armored, he dove into uncharted depths.

Sunlight. A mother's touch, soothing lonely tears. Winter wind, clean as mountains and oddly familiar.

_Human_ , Sephiroth reluctantly conceded, finding nothing but traces of white witchery in the boy's memory. Which did _not_ explain why a wolf-aura paced about the boy like a ghost. _Still, now I know he was not raised a ninja. Meaning if they made him a trap, it has to have happened recently._

Ah. There were memories of Genesis, fearsome as ever, attacking a mountain town. Brave little human, then; the aura of fear a demon general radiated often crushed the strongest men into shaking, catatonic balls. Yet the boy and his mother had persisted, seeking out the wounded, and then-

_A wall._ Sephiroth's lip curled, exposing fang. Subtle as he would expect of the ninja-sorcerers of Wutai. But not invisible. Especially with that pattern of fine, radiating cracks….

Cracks that felt only and completely of the child's own mind.

_Not a willing trap, then._ Interesting. The damage wasn't great, but for there to be any at all, inflicted by an unmagical mind over only a few days…. Perhaps the human _did_ come by that strength of will honestly.

Not that innocence would protect him, if the human were a risk to Zack. Sephiroth's pack was small enough. He would _not_ allow it to be sundered further.

Gathering his power about him in a subtle shroud, Sephiroth slipped through a crack in the barrier.

_Nibelheim._

He knew that strength of mountains, though it'd been decades since Jenova had been driven from that territory. The bite of the first snowfall, the howl of Nibel Wolves, the looming peaks of Mount Nibel-

Stealthy as a mountain panther, Sephiroth crept closer to that sense of mountains. It felt almost like… a stonehold….

Long ago, the struggle between Ancients and demons had all but torn Gaea's tectonic plates apart. The planet had eventually been stabilized, but at a cost; every mountain, every fault, every stretch of unstable ground needed a magical soul to tend it. Sephiroth held Midgar. Angeal held Gongaga. Genesis held Junon Harbor, and now Mount Nibel as well.

Yet the rooted strength in this child's soul felt like a stonehold. Mount Nibel's stonehold.

Impossible. Genesis had taken that territory for Shinra. Had levied lives and souls from it for Jenova; thus this human's presence in Midgar to begin with, a sacrifice for Sephiroth's ever-ravenous mother-

Chilled to the core, Sephiroth held himself still in the child's mind. Reached carefully back through the barrier, and drew Zack in with him. : _Look._ :

: _Son of a-!_ :

Unwilling to tempt fate, Sephiroth pulled them both out before the Hellish curse was finished.

"But _Genesis_ is holding Mount Nibel!" Zack protested.

"He should be, yes," Sephiroth agreed darkly. "I've had no reports to indicate he captured the local stoneholder. Or even found him."

Pale, Zack brushed blond hair out of a sleeping face. "If he'd been sacrificed-"

"Genesis, or at the very least most of his troops, would now be covered in molten lava," Sephiroth said dryly. "We should contact him when we're finished with the boy. It's likely there are Compact forces hidden within striking range of Nibelheim, waiting for the mountain to erupt."

"When we're finished with him?" Zack said warily. "Seph, this isn't his fault."

"Of course not," Sephiroth purred. "This is the Wutai Compact's _gift_ from Nibelheim. And one should always accept a gift in the true spirit in which it was intended." He softened his voice, let the malice drain away. "Besides. You didn't want to release him from our pack anyway."

"Uh- huh- wha-?"

"Zachary." Sephiroth eyed his second. Granted the soldier hadn't been full demon long, but he should know this, purely by instinct. "A pet goes on the floor. Where he won't pick up our scents. _Pack_ goes in the bed."

"But Reno said-" Zack cut himself off, and smacked himself in the forehead. "I've been played, huh?"

That didn't merit a reply. They both knew Tseng had been concerned, ever since Wutai's last devastating attack on Sephiroth's pack, that the two of them with no other hunters were… less than stable. Demons did not fare well alone. And the hunt-master of the Turk packs was quite willing to take drastic measures to ensure one of his strongest allies did not fall.

"Reno's probably laughing his head off," Zack sighed.

Of that, Sephiroth also had no doubt. The redheaded demon had a truly wicked sense of humor.

"But we don't even know the kid!" Zack protested.

Sephiroth tried not to sigh. Zack had dealt with his instincts for years, a hunter-thrall helping a full demon navigate the oddities of Shinra's human sorcerers and society. He'd thought the soldier would appreciate the strength of those changes in his own instincts, once he'd been transformed. "As you said, he's healthy. His mystic potential seems adequate. We've both felt the fabric of his mind, and we have his scent. It would be difficult for us to abandon him now."

"Difficult doesn't mean impossible," Zack pointed out.

"Do you want to release a human stoneholder to Genesis' custody?" Sephiroth said archly. Removing a stonehold from a witch or sorcerer's soul was difficult enough. From a human… the magic might survive. The boy wouldn't.

"Angeal would look after him," Zack started, and winced. "Why do I really not want to do that?"

_Because he's already starting to be ours._ But if Zack did not want to face the reality of his own instincts yet, Sephiroth would oblige. For now. "He's from Genesis' tithe. If we were to give him up to anyone, it would have to be Genesis." The standing of their own pack, small as it was, demanded nothing less. "Involving Angeal would set those two at each other's throats again, and we cannot risk that."

"Not with Wutai trying to pull a stunt like this," Zack agreed. Brushed claws through blond hair again. "Damn, Cloud; somebody must've really hated you and your Mom to get you into this mess."

Sephiroth cocked his head. "You're not surprised." _Why?_

"Guess I'm not," Zack admitted. "He has his mom's name, not his dad's. And you know how Compact types are about that."

He did indeed. Idiots.

"It's Strife," Zack added, noting his interest. "Cloud Strife."

Sephiroth caught his breath. "Eileen Strife's son?"

Zack stared. Poked him with a finger, as if testing to see if he were a ninja illusion. "How'd you know that?"

"Eileen was the local healer of last resort, when we were forced from Nibelheim." Sephiroth gazed into the past. "I've been told very little of that time, but I suspect she may have been called in to assist in my own delivery. Births in the area can often be difficult - their distaste for outsiders has had its effects, over the years - and she'd had over thirty years' experience, then. I doubt a demon would have fazed her."

"Over thirty - she _couldn't_ still be young enough to have a-" Zack shook his head, and swore. " _Last resort_ , right. Bolt me; Wutai grabbed the local _white witch's_ kid and set him up to be sacrificed?"

"Tactically, their options would have been few," Sephiroth noted clinically. A stoneholder had to have both mystical capability and a strong connection to the area held. Though magical strength could compensate for the lack of familiarity. To a point. "Anyone with stronger mystic potential would have been detected by those examining the tithe, before it got anywhere near Midgar. Not to mention the waste of resources in allowing someone already trained in the use of magic to be sacrificed. No; this would have been a brilliant stroke. We really must discover which Wutai strategist thought of it."

_So we can hurt them,_ he knew Zack was thinking. _A lot._

"So… if we keep him…." Zack shook his head. "Seph, even I know that's a bad idea. They got that barrier in him, and the stonehold; who knows what else they put in? I'd bet on a suicide command, at least."

It wouldn't be the first in a Compact prisoner. Their little stoneholder was living on borrowed time. "Clear our schedule for the next twenty-four hours," Sephiroth ordered. "A matter of internal security."

Zack nodded, and started pulling on his boots.

Sephiroth laid the child down on the bed, stripping off a glove to better sense every crevice and flare of the lethal magic laced through him. "And when you come back in, Zack… do _not_ startle me."

"Gotcha. No touchie."

"I didn't say that." _I'm going to get him in touch with his instincts if it kills me._ Before _it kills me._ "Be sure I know you are there. Then, come as close as you can." A sly, amused smile. "You claimed him. You should be the one to Mark him."

Zack gaped at him; drew back, shaking his head. "Seph, we're not giving him a choice!"

"Yes, we are. The only choice we can. Life, or death." Sephiroth met violet with a steady gaze. "He fought pack-thrall to escape, Zack. He wants to live."

* * *

 

Watching Sephiroth work magic, Zack often thought, was like watching a dragon stoop in a dive. Awesome. Magnificent. And scary as all hells.

Not that there was all that much to see, as Zack walked carefully back into the bedroom after giving orders that would have secretaries reshuffling schedules for hours. No glowing circle of runes lighting the floor, no lambent fires or sulfur smoke floating in mid-air, no thunder-cracklings of light and sound and scent as Sephiroth worked to unravel Compact spells like so many cobwebs. Just a soft, pale blue glow about the limp boy on the sheets, a smooth, unrelenting pressure in the air, and the clean scent of feathers as black wings spread over them both.

Slipping off his boots, Zack let them thump to the floor. Seph inclined his head, but didn't move.

_Okay, he knows I'm here._ And given Seph had his coat off and wings out, which he usually didn't do outside of a really fun night or a no-holds-barred battlefield…. Zack reached within the core of his magic, and shifted.

_Oooh… that always feels_ so _good._

He'd probably get used to having his own wings and horns. Eventually. For now, though, it was a heck of a thrill. Not quite as much of one as jumping out of a helicopter and catching the wind, but still a sizzle in his veins that made him want to bounce on his toes and grin like a maniac.

Leathery violet mantled in dark folds over his shoulders, Zack sat, as close as he dared. "Hey." Well, Seph hadn't said he couldn't talk.

Amused tolerance. : _Get over here._ :

: _I hear and obey, oh great and wise pack leader._ : Grinning, Zack scooted under a feathered wing, hip against leather-clad hip as Seph stroked yet another subtle pulse of magic through Cloud's aura. : _So what are we up against?_ :

: _Nothing insurmountable. From the complexity of the weave, it was likely designed well in advance. But not for a specific soul - and they had little time to apply it._ :

Meaning it wouldn't be impossible to disarm. Just nasty. : _Looks like you've got the outer layers peeled off._ : Which would have been the simple part. The dicey spellwork would come in when Seph tried to take out the traps connected to the stonehold itself. Wutai's spell-workers had woven Mount Nibel's magic into the very core of Cloud's essence. Like a bullet to the spine, one wrong flare of magic could be lethal. : _How are we going to strip out the inner traps without taking out the kid along with?_ :

Sephiroth smiled thinly. : _We'll be inside._ :

: _Why do I not like the sound of this?_ :

Claws out, Sephiroth sliced the side of one finger, slipping it between sleepy lips to drip crimson onto Cloud's tongue.

_Fastest place to absorb_ , Zack recalled. _Especially if you want it heading straight for the brain. Damn, what are we up against?_

His pack leader's mind yanked him in, and he knew.

Mountains shifting. Fever burning. Nibelheim in flames.

: _Immune system crash?_ :

Sephiroth inclined his head. : _They've woven traps into vital organs as well._ :

And they'd pulled this all off with only a few hours to work with, before Genesis had permanently crashed their party. Zack had known Compact sorcerers were no slouches, but _damn_.

: _Scarlet's division needs to put more effort into mystical R &D,_: Sephiroth noted. : _Golems may be useful cannon fodder, but they're of limited utility off conventional battlefields. We need more adaptable spells._ _Tseng has already increased espionage efforts against Wutai._ :

Good call. Demons could channel greater magic than any witch, or even fully trained Ancient sorcerer, but more wasn't always better. One well-aimed transport disruption spell could shut down a parl point for hours, and if you didn't already have your people and supplies through… well, soldiers, meet Wutai armor-piercing meat grinder.

Speaking of blood…. : _Um, Seph? I think you can stop now._ :

A minuscule shake of silver. : _We need to be_ inside. _Completely._ :

Zack blinked as Seph unrolled the plan in his own mind. Absorbed it, and didn't know whether to wince or sigh. : _You do know if it comes to you or the kid, I'm picking you?_ :

: _No choice will be necessary._ :

Meaning Seph had taken the Wutai curses as a personal challenge, serious as a blade to that mane of silver hair and demonic pride, and there was no stopping him now. : _Tell me what you need._ :

: _Hold his heartbeat,_ : Sephiroth said grimly.

Oh, terrific. Seph was going to be juggling a dozen aura-shifts at once, all potentially hazardous to life, limb, or sanity, with no concentration left over to maintain little things like breathing. Heaving a put-upon sigh, Zack followed the sparkling trail of Sephiroth's blood through Cloud's circulatory system, and took firm but gentle hold of lungs and heart. : _Got it._ : A breath. : _What else?_ :

Hesitation. : _His odds of survival would be greater if he were not unconsciously opposing us._ :

: _You mean, if we got him to at least consider trusting us for real._ : Zack nodded. : _Give me some time before you start carving?_ :

Sephiroth frowned. : _Half an hour._ :

Probably wise. More than that, and the traps might notice what Seph had already stripped out, which could lead to all kinds of bad things. : _'Kay. I'm going in._ :

Reaching out, Zack slipped past the restless unease of forced sleep, riding the feeling of falling _out_ and _up_ -

Combat boots touched down in a crunch of fallen leaves, blown by mountain winds into drifts along boulders and towering trees. Zack stood still, letting his senses roam, ignoring the crush of time. Mind-time ran differently from real time, and everyone's mental landscape was different. Rushing off wouldn't get him anywhere but lost.

Trees, rocks, trees, sky, rough village buildings down-slope from him, and, oh yeah, more trees. But no kid. In what _should_ be the center of Cloud's mind.

_Hiding. And stubborn._

Zack shaded his eyes against the bright light of a mountain dawn, studying the white-and-dark-framed buildings with a demon's eagle-sharp vision. Looked a lot like pieces of the water-photos of Nibelheim. Which made sense. Most of the inside of _his_ head looked like Gongaga, or parts of Midgar. What better place to find sanctuary in your own head than home?

Only if that was _home_ , why wasn't Zack in the middle of it already? And why did a lot of the village buildings look… off, somehow?

Hopping up a few limbs in a particularly sturdy tree to get a better vantage, Zack studied the buildings. The nearest house looked small, but okay. Better than okay; mended and warm and cozy in a way that said _welcome_.

_Cloud's home, I bet. But he's not in it. Why isn't home safe?_

Buildings farther down-slope… his gaze picked out timbers subtly warped. Eaves with a malevolent twist to them. Thatch laced with thorns, or bones, or even writhing in the corners of his eye, like a jungle strangle-vine.

_So… Nibelheim's a bad place to be. This, is not good._

Given he hadn't yet been hit by a boulder, blasted by spellfire, or dropped into a tiger pit, Zack guessed that Cloud didn't have the kind of lethal trust issues he'd found in, oh, say, Sephiroth. But if the kid couldn't trust anyone outside his own home….

_Well, hell. If it were easy, Seph wouldn't have asked you to do it._

Resolute, Zack jumped back down to stone and leaves, and headed up-slope. Cloud might be quiet, smart, and stubborn as a chocobo bent on Sylkis greens, but given that wide-eyed, _honest_ answer to Seph, one thing he wasn't was sneaky. If Cloud didn't trust the village, then the place to look was _away_.

_What am I looking for, that's the question-_

Hang on a second. Was that a paw-print?

_Wolf aura._

Grinning, Zack followed the trail.

_'Course, I'd still better keep a sharp eye out. For all I know, he's hiding as a wolf cub, or a squirrel, or-_

Or just a scrawny blond kid, perched on top of a boulder downwind from a pack of Nibel Wolves lazing in the sun. Zack kept his voice low, dropping down to sit beside Cloud. "Hey."

Blue eyes stared at him.

"Good place you've got here," Zack went on, watching the wolves. "Quiet. Hard to find." He let his gaze touch Cloud's, just for a moment. "For somebody who doesn't have a scrap of telepathy, you do a pretty good job of protecting yourself."

Cloud swallowed. "Not good enough."

"What, 'cause I found you?" Zack buffed his nails on his charcoals. "I am just that good…." Wait. Cloud was looking _behind_ him.

Sinking feeling in his gut, Zack glanced over his shoulder.

_Oh… I think I want to throw up._

On the surface, it didn't look so bad. Perfect, ornate calligraphy of obsidian and scarlet, written on the sky, orderly as a Wutain stone garden.

In the wilds outside Nibelheim, it was wrenching as rape.

Swallowing hard, Zack looked away, making sure he drew Cloud's gaze with him. "Sephiroth's going to fix that."

"They did that to me to hurt Shinra." Cloud's gaze was level. Numb. "You're not doing this to help me. You're doing it to hurt them."

_I take it back. The whole trust deal? You and Seph are neck and neck. You're just not as lethal. Yet._ "It's not like that-"

"You're a _demon_." Finally, a spark of life in blue eyes. Even if it was angry life. "You don't look like it, but you are. Why should I believe _anything_ you say?"

_Think, Zack_ , the soldier told himself. _If he's really like Seph - what he wants is the truth._ Nodding, Zack shifted to demon form. "You're right. Wutai's our enemy, and we can't let these spells stand. No matter what happens to you." Violet met blue. "But you don't have to die."

"Why do you _care?_ " Cloud flung at him; stone shaking under Zack's boots, wind burning like acid. And fading to a puff of breeze, as Cloud curled on himself, arms hugging skinned knees. "They didn't."

_They. Wutai? His village? Everybody?_ "Because I don't believe in one-way missions."

Wind stopped.

_Got his attention, good._ "I'm a soldier," Zack went on. "You belong to me. Which makes you a part of the army, too. And if there's one thing General Sephiroth hates, it's wasting valuable resources."

"I'm… not…."

_Honest. Stay honest._ "Not _yet_. But you could be. If you work at it. I'm not gonna sugar-coat it. Sephiroth's one of the toughest commanders out there, period. You come with us, I guarantee there's going to be times you'll wish you _were_ dead. Up before dawn, crash way after midnight; tired, cold, hungry, sore, bleeding, half-crazy from backlash and spell-blasts - all that, and worse. You'll go up against monsters most people only meet in their nightmares, and if you're _lucky_ , you'll do it armed." Zack gave a casual shrug, wings rustling. "Maybe you won't even make it through basic training. Some people don't. But you had the guts to fight a compulsion, when you had _nothing_ backing you. I think you can do it."

"But… why would you want me?" A thin, threadbare whisper, as blue eyes dropped to his knees. "No one wants me."

"Well, I do." Zack gave him a wry, fanged grin. "Instinct, or so somebody tells me. I wanted someone, and you were there, so we're both stuck with it." He cocked his head. "I've only been a demon a few weeks, y'know. Kind of curious to see how it all works out."

Ever so slightly, blue lifted, eyeing him with wary disbelief.

_Gotcha!_ "So," Zack said casually, holding out a claw-tipped hand, "you want to help us beat this thing?"

Cloud glanced at the spell-scrawl on his mind. "How?"

"C'mon." Zack picked up the surprised teen, spread his wings, and launched. "Let me show you part of yourself you haven't seen yet."

Unlike Cloud, this wasn't hard to find. He'd know the pulse of Seph's magic anywhere.

Arrowing through misty, mysterious air, Zack touched down by what had likely originally been a small, still pool in Cloud's mind; the steady flow of life-energy even the most magicless human could lay claim to.

Now quiet water was shot through with rivulets of firefly-green, rising from a steadily-deepening well in the center. Feathery tendrils reached out from each rivulet like unfolding ferns, claiming more of the water with each passing moment. "No," Cloud gulped.

"Yes." Zack kept an iron grip on the kid's shoulder. "If we don't take it apart from the inside, the Compact spells might catch on that we're here. If they do that, they _will_ kill you. So Seph's got to be able to move his magic through you. A human wouldn't survive it. A thrall might."

Cloud stopped struggling. Looked up at him, blue eyes wide and blazing.

_But no magic in 'em. Not yet. He's not willing…._ "Yeah. This could work, and still kill you," Zack stated, unflinching. "I can't promise you anything. People like us don't make promises we can't keep. But if you want honest - Cloud, I swear, I think this is your best shot."

Cloud ran shaking fingers through blond spikes, staring at spreading magic. Took a deep breath, and nodded.

_Good enough._ Zack wrapped warm wings around him, and rested his chin atop spiky blond. "Hang on."

With a _snap_ of breaking magics, the world caught fire.

* * *

 

… _Ow._

"Kinda scrawny, huh?"

An oddly familiar voice snorted, not unkindly. "Look who's talking, Reno. I've seen those initiation pictures Rude keeps in his desk drawer."

"Hey! I was thirteen, yo."

"And he's not much older. Give him a few years."

Zack, Cloud realized, prying heavy eyelids open to glimpse wild black hair over horns and dusk-violet, leathery wings. And the red-haired, peacock-winged demon who'd pointed him out to Zack at the temple, getting them all into this mess in the first place. "Why do you guys sound so weird?"

"Yes!" Reno pumped a fist in the air. "Rude owes me twenty gil." Frowned, red curves of tattoos making it oddly more demonic and friendly at once. "Maybe fifteen. Still got an accent you could cut with a broadsword, yo."

"And you don't?" Zack helped Cloud sit up on the hospital cot. "How you feeling, cub?"

"Like somebody bulldozed a flame-thrower through my head," Cloud muttered, wincing. _Wait a second…._ "Why do _I_ sound so weird?"

"'Cause you ain't speaking Common," Reno grinned.

Okay, answer that wasn't an answer… why did he have the feeling he ought to be seriously freaked out? "Um. Why are you guys glowing?" Zack was swarmed with violet-streaked green, mists of heat and clashing swords. Reno's glow was more subtle; shadowed teal, static-crackle and an echo of dark alleyways.

"Well, that answers one of my questions." Soft golden lights seemed to precede a brunette in blue scrubs and lab-coat into the room, even as she made a note on her clipboard. "Cloud _mure_ Fair? I'm Nimira _mure_ Zane, chief medical officer of the Second Army. You can call me Nimira, or Doc. I don't know how much these two grinning idiots have told you-"

"Yo, this is smirking, not grinning."

"I notice you don't deny the idiot part… why are you here, Reno?"

"Laughter's the best medicine, right Doc?" Reno tried to look innocent, even as he jabbed a clawed thumb towards Zack. "Here to laugh at him hysterically."

"Ah." Clear blue eyes rolled, amused and unsurprised. "Well, Cloud, if you have any questions…."

"Cloud _mure_ who?" Cloud said warily. _Mure_ … it meant pack, and gang, and who you belonged to - and how did he know that?

"Start with the basics," Zack advised her. "Up 'til a few days ago, he was Compact." He glanced at Cloud. "Fair is me. You're in my pack, you get my name."

"But… you're not _ryoushi-ou_ …." Hunt master. The General. Sephiroth. Zack was _mure-nii_ , pack-second, not _mure-ou_ , and why did his head _hurt_ so much….

"Don't push it." Nimira's hand was gentle on Cloud's forehead, washing away pain in iridescent mist. "Just how much did the pair of you shove in there, Zack?"

"Ah… the basics? We had to do a lot of classified work on him anyway, and since we were already in there-"

"Army basics, or basics according to General Sephiroth?" Nimira sound - not quite angry, but definitely annoyed.

"Um…."

Nimira let out a puff of frustrated breath. "Count yourself lucky. He's bright, he was able to absorb most of it. But I want him on light duty for at least the next week. No middle-of-the-night wake-ups, let him nap if he needs it, and _no_ more meddling. Give the transfer time to settle in before you tamper any further."

"Transfer?" Cloud asked.

"Classified?" Reno frowned. "Somethin' tells me you're not just talking the regular lockbox, Fair."

"Nope." Zack's smile had a definite edge. "You managed to find the one kid in the whole tithe who was booby-trapped."

"Shit."

"Seph's talking to Tseng about it," Zack went on matter-of-factly. "It took Sephiroth's probe to catch it. He doesn't blame you."

"Him, hell. That's my _job_." Bright blue narrowed. "You tell me what to look for, yo. Nobody pulls one over on me twice."

"We will." Zack turned back to Cloud. "Telepathic transfer. Every new recruit gets it during orientation. Hellish, entry-level security procedures, basic hand-to-hand… a few other useful odds and ends. After the doc clears you, we'll see how much of it stuck."

_Hellish. We're all speaking_ \- Cloud swallowed hard. "But - you _can't_ trust me!"

Zack rubbed at the base of one horn, as if his head ached. "Cloud, we've been over this…."

"Let me handle this," Nimira said briskly. "It's been a very long time since the two of you were first thralls." No one moved. She sighed. "Let me rephrase, gentlemen. Out, or I warm up my stethoscope on _very_ tender portions of your anatomy."

Reno was already gone.

Zack lingered in the doorway a bit longer. "I'll be right outside, okay? She just needs to do a physical. Standard procedure."

"Okay," Cloud said softly. Waited until the door closed, and tried not to shrink inside his clothes. "Um... they kind of already did one.…"

"At the temple. I know. I have it. But demon blood changes you." Her smile warmed him. "Don't worry, this won't be nearly as bad. I'll need you to take your shirt off, that's all."

Cloud shivered, trying not to think of that exam, where smirking hands had torn off his clothes and-

"It's all right." Nimira sat down right next to him, let him shake against her coat. "It's all right, Cloud, you're safe now. You're part of Zack's pack. He won't let that happen to you, ever again."

"But if I didn't get sacrificed," Cloud shivered again, but met her gaze anyway. "Someone else _did_."

"Probably," Nimira nodded, eyes sad. "Jenova always gets what she wants. Professor Hojo sees to that."

Cloud's fists clenched. "Someone should stop them." _I want to stop them-_

Firm fingers pushed on his brow, shoving that thought _back_ and _hidden_.

_What… what was I just thinking?_ There was another blank spot, like the one the Elders had left in him; it didn't feel quite the same, but he knew it was there. Which meant he wasn't safe here either-

"That was very dangerous." Nimira's voice was level. "You felt that click? That was your lockbox. General Sephiroth constructed it; no one else could make one strong enough to protect what you'll learn in his pack. It's where you keep things you don't know you know - passwords, security codes, dangerous things - so no one can torture them out of you. Or read them from your mind, when you can't shield them yourself. And you're not strong enough to keep anyone out of your mind, Cloud. Not yet." Her voice dropped. "Train hard, Cloud. Train very, very hard - and when you're strong enough to think that again, you'll _know_."

"It… wasn't anything that would hurt anyone, was it?" Cloud asked shyly.

Nimira smiled, and shook her head.

_Okay_ …. He trusted her. He didn't know why - but he did. Which was the only reason he dared to ask. "Why is everybody being so nice to me? I'm from Nibelheim. I'm the enemy!"

"Cloud…." Delicately, Nimira touched the left side of his throat, just above his collarbone.

Cloud tried not to squirm. _Tickles. Weird._

Producing a hand mirror from her coat pocket, Nimira angled it to catch that side. "That's Zack's Mark. See?" The ticklish spot was a small oval of deep red skin, smooth and soft to the touch.

"I have one, too." Nimira pulled back the collar of her coat, displaying a similar patch. "It's Katreela's. Where she bit me, like Zack bit you, and healed it with some of her cells in the wound. Cells that change us from what we were, to what we need to be for our pack." A dark brow lifted. "What do you know about how demons feed?"

Cloud ducked his head. "I'm not supposed to know anything." Too gruesome for young ears, the Elders claimed; though his mother had always believed you should see danger from as close as you could manage, the better to avoid it.

"Really." Nimira sounded interested. "I guess you know they need blood. Do you know why?"

Cloud shook his head.

"Demons are all sensitive to iron."

Well, yeah; everyone knew _that_. A demon could tear apart steel with his bare hands, sure - but if he did that literally, he'd be seared to the bone.

"But except for Jenova and her beasts, all demons were human once. Even General Sephiroth, I think - though if you say that around Professor Hojo, be prepared for chapter and verse on how that can't possibly be true of Jenova's son. And humans need iron."

"So… they get it out of blood?" Cloud ventured.

"It's the safest way," Nimira nodded. "But biting isn't safe. A hungry demon can tear up a lot more than they intend to, and even if they don't, there's too many germs on teeth for bites to heal cleanly without a lot of magic. Marking fixes that. The demon cells encourage your body to make more blood, and to release it there when the Mark is licked. No bite, no wound… and no doubts that you truly belong to a pack."

"Is that why Zack feels safe?" At her nod, Cloud winced. "So it's not real." _I wanted it to be real…._

"Oh, it's real," Nimira stated. "When you have a little more science, I'll have to explain oxytocin and vasopressin… everything you're feeling is real, Cloud. The cells make it happen a different way than humans normally create emotional bonds, and they make it stronger than anything you've felt before. But it _is_ real. And it's why we can trust you." She gave him a sober look. "If someone in the Compact, someone you trusted, told you to hurt Zack - what would you do?"

Someone he trusted? There wasn't anyone he trusted, not after the Elders had - well, there was his Mom. But she'd never ask him to hurt someone he… cared about….

Nimira rubbed Cloud's shoulders as he shivered. "It'll get easier. Just give it time. Now, let me check your heartbeat…."

* * *

 

"Well?"

Lounging against the wall outside Nimira's infirmary, Zack tried not to glance up too quickly. Seph only looked cool, calm, and collected. In the subtle pulse that was pack-bond, the general was a bundle of raw nerves. _Can't say I'm surprised. Took me forever to get him to open up to the rest of the pack, and then when we lost so many…. Took it out on Wutai, that's for sure._ "He's fine, we got all the Compact mess, and Nimira wants to pour ice water down your coat for shoving so much into Cloud's head."

"Doctor Zane would never stoop to such juvenile measures."

"You sure about that? She's got an awful lot of ice cubes in that freezer." A healing golden aura approached the door, and Zack winked. "So what's the verdict, Doc?"

Nimira made sure the door was securely shut, and turned to the General. "Take him home and keep him under your wings for at least a week, sir," she said frankly. "And I mean _literally_ under someone's wing, as much as you can. He's frightened, he's stubborn, and he's smart enough to know what he _should_ be feeling, instead of what he _is_."

Zack nodded. "He's fighting the thrall."

Nimira glanced at him. "Is that why you disabled that part of the tag?"

"Wasn't doing any good," Zack said frankly. "He made it from my bed to the door."

Nimira blinked. Turned back to Sephiroth. Who inclined his head.

"Unusual strength of will for someone that young," Nimira said thoughtfully.

Zack looked at her askance. "You make that sound like it's a bad thing."

"He's _lonely_ ," the healer said bluntly. "I've treated runaways hauled in by the Turks who weren't half so touch-starved. The pack-bond is _everything_ he's ever wanted - and he knows he _shouldn't_ want it." Nimira's fists clenched, though Zack knew she couldn't bear to hurt a fly. "How could anyone do that to a child?"

"He's physically healthy?" Sephiroth lifted an elegant silver brow. "Enough to survive moderate physical stress?"

Zack cleared his throat. "Ah, Seph. What you call moderate-"

"A lengthy siege damages both sides. We need a decisive victory."

Trust General Sephiroth to see this in terms of military engagements instead of trying to bring a lost kid home.

Then again, that didn't mean he was wrong.

Mentally throwing up his hands, Zack sighed. "What've you got in mind?"

* * *

 

Hot. Aching. Migraine that made him curl up and want to die.

_Won't die. Can't. Promised._

Fever that blazed and swelled through his joints. Hot skin on the side of his neck, that throbbed and burned and _needed_ -

_Won't!_

"Five days." Zack's voice was proud and worried at once, as the demon wrapped leathery warmth around him. "Damn, Cloud. I've seen thralls crack in three."

Kind hands, finger-combing his hair. Reaching slightly lower, to brush across pulsing heat in a way that almost _hurt_ -

Cloud held very, very still.

He wanted to lean into Zack. Into the gentle warmth that would make the fever go away - he knew it would.

But he couldn't.

There was a reason. He knew it. But the headache made it so hard to think, heart pounding in his ears like a horde of drums….

"Not running. Guess that's something." Zack's breath feathered his ear. "Come on, Cloud, work with me here. You're hurting. And you're hurting us. You're hurting your pack."

Which was wrong. He didn't want to hurt his… no. Humans didn't have packs. He was human. _Human_.

"I can feel you needing us. All you have to do is ask. That's what pack is, Cloud. You ask for what you need." Another tickling, torturous brush of fingertips. "Seph won't let anybody see it, but you can feel him, can't you? You can feel how much he's hurting when his pack hurts. When _you_ hurt."

He… could; a fine silver line of pain, and regret. Fainter, almost hidden in Zack's brash, blazing hurt. But… humans couldn't feel that, and he wouldn't-

"Let me help." : _Let me help, cub…._ :

It was like listening through fog. : _Z…Zack?_ :

: _He sends!_ : Warm and happy and world-upside-down, like being bowled over by an oversized puppy. : _You stopped talking yesterday, y'know. Just quit right in the middle of telling us to go to hell. I was kind of worried, but Seph says he's seen it dozens of times with people whose minds are just opening up. I wouldn't know, we had a nasty monster breakout in the middle of my basic training, an' I was pretty much seeing double all the time my brain was rewiring itself-_ :

Cloud could see flickers of that attack, Flower Prongs and strangle-vines somehow smuggled in by homicidal Wutai ninja gardeners. Could feel the pain, and frustration, and odd sense of wonder as a silver-haired demon in black spoke with Angeal…. : _You love the general._ :

: _I respect the general,_ : Zack corrected him. : _I love Sephiroth. He's_ pack.:

It tugged at Cloud. And he was so tired. : _Didn't mean… to hurt you. Don't hate me._ : Not that he could hope for that; everyone hated him eventually. Well, almost everyone. Tifa didn't hate him. Not that she really knew he was there….

: _Pack doesn't hate pack._ :

: _…We don't?_ :

Relief and welcome, mingling through him in a cool rush. : _That's right. We don't._ :

Wet warmth swiped across the throbbing heat, and Cloud scented copper.

: _Easy, cub. You've got days of excess blood built up. Going to take a while to lick it out of you._ :

Licking. Zack was _licking_ him, feeding on the blood seeping through his Mark, and it felt-

Cuddling closer, Cloud let his pack-second nurse away the fever.

Too soon, Zack stopped. : _Seph?_ :

Silent footfalls on the floor, detectable only by the singing sword of their owner's aura. Slit emerald looked down on him. : _Cloud_ mure _Fair._ :

It was claiming. Unstoppable. A match to every new hollow in his soul, fitting with a click that shook him to the core. : _Pack leader._ :

Sephiroth hooked a finger under his chin, pressed upward. Instinct bent Cloud's head aside, though even that couldn't stifle the gasp as Sephiroth's tongue licked to feed.

_He's the pack leader. It's his right. It's_ right.

_No - no, I'm_ human….

"You are pack." Sephiroth's voice was low. Implacable. "You need us. Your own blood demands it. Accept who you are."

How could he not? Sephiroth was _pack leader_. A cub couldn't challenge him. Not now. Not ever.

But-

_"When you're strong enough,"_ Nimira's voice whispered in memory.

Seizing the doubts tearing apart his soul, Cloud flung them at the lockbox.

_Click._

Blinking away the haze of fading pain, Cloud looked up at his pack. Who were staring at him.

_They were worried. Because I was hurting._ He scraped together a smile for them. _It's okay. I made it stop._

"Okay," Zack said at last. "That was officially scary."

Cloud frowned. Tried to speak. Couldn't, and finally resorted to the comforting thrum of thought and emotion binding them together. : _Huh?_ :

"We'll deal with it at another time," Sephiroth said firmly. "For now, I believe you should take him to meet the other recruits."

People who weren't his pack? Ugh. But if the pack leader said so - Cloud got to his feet, waited until he was sure the room wasn't going to tilt again, and nodded at Zack.

Violet stared back at him. Finally creased into a reluctant grin, as Zack shook his head. "You are going to be more trouble than a basketful of bored chicks, aren't you?"

Well, Cloud certainly hoped not. He had the definite feeling he'd given his pack more than enough trouble already.

Then again, if those fragments of memory he'd caught were right, Zack _loved_ trouble….

* * *

 

"Get down here, Strife!"

Perched atop the water tower, formal paperwork clenched in one hand, Eileen glared down at the crowd of gossiping idiots and one lethal idiot in particular. "Sit on it and rotate, Lockhart!"

Shock and subtle glee buzzed through the crowd of villagers. Righ Lockhart purpled, one fist raised-

"Is there a problem, gentle-beings?"

Eileen tried not to smirk as the crowd curled back from the dark-haired young sorcerer in uniform. From what she knew of Shinra Army procedures, it wasn't unusual for a young officer to be sent along with official communications. But for an officer in Sephiroth's Second Army to come into an area controlled by Genesis _mure_ Rhapsodos' First…. "No problem, Blood Korandion. Just some nosy busybodies who think they have the right to read my mail."

Korandion turned a look of polite surprise on the chief busybody in question. "Is this true, Elder Lockhart? I'm certain it's been widely published that interfering with Army communications is a serious offense."

"Well - it - she's a bereaved woman!" Lockhart blustered. "The community has an obligation to assist in this dreadful time-"

"Go kiss the southbound end of a northbound dragon, you hypocritical ass!" Spirits, this felt good! "You wouldn't give Cloud the time of day while he was alive. Do you really expect me to believe that's changed when he's dead?"

"A death notice?" Korandion shaded golden eyes to look up at her, the purple cloth binding his hair fluttering as he nodded. "My condolences on your loss, Healer Strife."

"Huh." Eileen snorted. " _You_ , I believe."

"You believe a Shinra Army bas-" Lockhart cut himself off when Korandion glanced at him. "She's obviously disturbed! And she has a knife!"

"Of _course_ I have a knife," Eileen snarled down. "We've _all_ got knives. This is Nibelheim, and we're all _barbarians_."

"Soul-tainted bi-" Lockhart's voice died mid-curse, as fire erupted around Korandion's gloved hand.

The young officer held his gaze a moment longer, then turned his back on the man, flames snuffing out. "I'm afraid he has a point, Healer Strife. Notifications are never easy…."

"You have my word," Eileen said formally, "I mean no harm to myself or others this day." She dropped the courtly tone, letting her shoulders slump. "I just want to read this in peace. Where I can remember my boy."

Korandion inclined his head, and stepped back. "You heard her."

There was grumbling, particularly from Lockhart's cronies. More than a few dark looks, both at the officer and herself. Eileen cared about none of it, leaning back in peaceful sunlight to continue reading her letter. A very long letter, for a death notice… or what looked like one, when other eyes threatened it.

To her touch, it was far more.

… _He isn't exactly blowing the socks off the instructors yet, but he does good, steady work,_ a hasty scrawl told her. _He pays attention, and he won't quit until he gets whatever he's working on right. And the birds love him. What's up with that, anyway? You teach him how to hide greens in his hair, or something? Never seen anything like it._

_Anyway, we're going out on a training mission soon, so wish him luck. Send letters to this address, and they'll get there._

_-Mure-nii._

No name. Nothing but a post office box. But that was fine. She didn't need a name.

Reaching into her healer's bag, Eileen took out the knife that had set off that idiot Lockhart. Really, the man was too proud of how much he _didn't_ know about magic, or he'd have known this blade was never meant to cut mortal flesh.

A swipe of her polishing cloth over cold-forged iron, and magic's sigils shone clear. _Cloud mure Fair_ blazed lava-bright in Hellish, almost obscuring the water-blue runes of _Cloud Strife_.

Eileen regarded the glow a moment more, then slipped Cloud's fate knife back into her bag. The blade wasn't rusty, bent, or bleeding; physically, he was fine. Though he'd forgotten himself. For now. Not a pleasant thing to know….

_But he's not dead. Spirits be thanked, he's not dead._

And even if pack-thrall held him now - Cloud was her son. And Nicholas'. And while it'd taken six years for Nicholas Thorn to free himself… not even Jenova had been able to hold him.

_Six years._ Eileen swiped at a stray tear, and drew a calming breath. _I can wait._

_I wonder… if you have your father's eyes…._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Parl Point – magically-created, usually permanent link between two spatially separate places. Small ones are often used to spy on locations; larger ones take more energy to create, but can be used for mass transport of troops and equipment.
> 
> "A virtuous woman's worth is above rubies" - and we know one thing Jenova is not, is virtuous….


End file.
